


hook

by cabbage_s



Series: the stranger [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabbage_s/pseuds/cabbage_s
Summary: “Are you saying that because I’m short?” the boy asks indignantly, but not without jest. Jeno relaxes and takes the invitation to play.“You’re not short, just... fun-sized?”or, Jeno runs into a stranger with a cute smile during a late-night walk and offers to help carry his things
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Series: the stranger [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846639
Comments: 31
Kudos: 47





	hook

**Author's Note:**

> click [here](https://twitter.com/ssauerkraaut/status/1288040497693564931?s=20) for tw, unless you want to go into this blind !!

Jeno’s not special in this sense, but he’s always been a night owl. His mom complains that this is just an excuse to stay up until four in the morning, which is partly true— mother knows him best— but he’s not lying when he says he enjoys the experience of taking long walks at night.

Walking by himself after the socially accepted curfew might not be the brightest idea, but it hasn’t gotten Jeno killed yet. He likes the peace and quiet, the stillness suspended in the air when most sane people have surrendered themselves to slumber. His biological clock favors, not loneliness, but his time to think alone and freely. And he thinks comfortably, listening to the weak thrum of snare and synth from his cord bitten headphones while he walks through the familiar route of the city.

Jeno rounds the same corner he’s turned around every time he’s gone on one of these impulsive late-night walks. He’s the type of person who never deviates from his usual route, whether it be the type of burrito he orders at Chipotle or the path he takes to his biology classrooms. He’s always doing the same exact things, expecting the same exact things, so this applies to his walks as well— taking the same exact route as he always does. 

However, tonight when he walks onto a neighborhood street that he’s familiarized himself with for the past few months, Jeno almost runs into a boy who’s heading in the opposite direction. 

“Whoa!” Jeno says, side-stepping just in time before they collide. “My bad.”

“No, no,” the boy gasps, craning his head to look at him from behind the stack of textbooks he’s holding. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

Jeno hadn’t expected to see someone outside this late, but that’s a mistake he only has himself to blame for— there’s bound to be people here and there for one reason or another. But strangers are strangers, so Jeno merely offers a shy yet genuine smile in understanding. The boy smiles back from behind old history books of civil wars and misery, breathlessly but beautifully, like all strangers are lonely yet lovely at heart.

Jeno’s chest tightens. 

He opens his mouth to say it was his fault, but Jeno’s reflexes are faster than the slow drawl he has going on for him when he speaks: when the textbooks threaten to slip out of the boy’s grasp, he darts forward to support him. 

The boy is embarrassed when Jeno stabilizes him and takes the top half of textbooks without even asking, but he looks thankful nevertheless. Jeno doesn’t notice his chagrin, taking care not to ruin the books while he tries to get a firmer grasp on them. He pulls out his earbuds, which are playing an album he’s milked a hundred times dry listening to, and pockets it so he can give his full attention to this stranger.

“Thank you,” the stranger whispers, pink lips pouting like the gratitude is hard to swallow. Jeno tips his head and makes him take it down all the way.

“No problem. You looked like you needed the help.”

Jeno freezes, wondering if he had been too blunt with his words. He hadn’t meant for the sentences to come out condescending like they did, but Jeno’s expertise lies in his actions, not his words. His lack of emotions(which isn’t intentional in the least) and his ability to choose the poorest wording possible is a deadly, deadly combination that hits him the hardest. 

Luckily, the stranger doesn’t seem to take offense to his frankness.

“Are you saying that because I’m short?” the boy asks indignantly, but not without jest. Jeno relaxes and takes the invitation to play.

“You’re not short, just... fun-sized?”

The boy laughs, and when they exchange names, he gives him the name Renjun like it is a useless thing that can not pay back his chivalry. 

But Jeno doesn’t want to be paid back. He wants Renjun to laugh like that again, and again and again for as long as they can talk as if they aren’t just strangers who happened to run into each other in the middle of the street.

Jeno has never been a fan of small talk, but small talk gives him the excuse to stare at Renjun, who is a lot more attractive than he realized at first. His yellow sweater combined with his rolled up jeans is a comfortable yet fitting look on him, giving him an air of softness and purposeful casualness. It makes Jeno feel sloppy about his own clothes, which he put together by drawing from his closet like a raffle. 

“I didn’t expect someone else to be outside this late,” Renjun says while they walk to his car, a comfortable distance between them. “I mean, _I’m_ usually not even up this late. I’m moving into a new apartment so I figured I should get some of the smaller things out of the way today.”

“I like taking walks at night,” Jeno explains, eyeing the floor and hopping over any divots on the sidewalk. “It’s quiet and weirdly calming, you know?” 

“Aren’t you afraid of being jumped?”

Jeno rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Honestly, I’ve run into more street lights from not looking at where I was going than running into guys with knives.”

Renjun smiles in amusement, his eyes crinkling into half-moons as he laughs.

“True. I mean, you almost ran into me!”

The walk to Renjun’s car gives them some time to exchange info about themselves. Jeno learns that Renjun is majoring in psychology and minors in dance, the latter of which he’s won a couple of competitions for. He likes talking about space, which explains a lot of the NASA and alien pins on his backpack.

When Jeno absently mumbles something about going to watch him dance, Renjun pales before shoving him playfully and begging him not to. Jeno grins at his embarrassment, finding it oddly adorable, and makes a show of not listening to him. Renjun catches onto his game fairly quickly and pouts in dejection like he _knows_ how he already has Jeno wrapped around his fingers, which is enough to pressure him into stopping. 

When Renjun asks about him in return, Jeno talks about how he’s currently taking the pre-vet course of study and mentions some of the music he listens to. Renjun listens attentively and eagerly, which makes Jeno oddly happy. 

When Jeno explains how he’s worried about the competitiveness of vet school and vaguely hints at how his mom doesn’t approve of his dream of becoming a veterinarian, Renjun stops to peel a star-shaped sticker off one of his textbooks and stamps it onto Jeno’s forehead, telling him:

“You can do it! I believe in you!” 

Jeno’s cheeks flare up like a Christmas light. 

_Oh. Cute._

“You like animals a lot, huh?” Renjun asks while Jeno’s showing him pictures of his cats. He flushes in embarrassment, wondering if he had been doing the annoying thing where he rambles on and on about his pets too much, but Renjun is looking at him with fond, gentle eyes that make him heat up for an entirely different reason.

“I- I guess?” Jeno mumbles, fidgeting with his thumbs. “I mean, I used to help my mom foster kittens when I was younger, which I hope to do again once my life gets stable. ...Even though I’m allergic and they make me break out all the time.”

“That’s cute,” Renjun says. “I wish I could have a pet, but animals hate me.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an animal who likes you!”

They finally reach Renjun’s car, which is a worn-down SUV with a generous amount of bumper stickers on the back. As he’s fumbling around the back pockets of his jeans for his keys, Renjun explains that he’s helping his friend with their move; the back of the van has a lot of space for boxes and kitchen appliances that need to be relocated.

When they set the textbooks down next to a suitcase in the backseat, Renjun turns around with a bashful smile as if he’s expecting Jeno to say something.

A voice in the back of Jeno’s head that sounds suspiciously like the lovechild of all of his nosy friends urges him to ask for Renjun’s number. He considers this idea for what seems like an eternity in his mind, but Jeno has always been a pussy, so he stomps on the thought before he can make a bad decision.

“I suppose this is goodbye?” Jeno asks hesitantly, a little sad that this is all of the time he’ll be able to spend with Renjun. They’re strangers after all, so it’s only expected. 

“...Yeah," Renjun breathes out, looking disappointed. He fidgets with his fingers and rocks back and forth on his heels, averting his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it."

“Be careful next time," Jeno says before Renjun can turn away and leave for good. "This part of the city can be pretty shady sometimes, and I don't want you to run into any trouble."

Renjun blinks in surprise, before scoffing in disbelief and placing his hands on his hips in indignation. Jeno meets the faux anger with a smile— Renjun hardly looks intimidating with his sleeves reaching past his hands. 

"Lee Jeno," Renjun reprimands. The syllables of his name are sweet on Renjun's tongue, and although Jeno is being scolded, he can't help but want Renjun to say his name over and over again. "I know I'm short, but I can take full care of myself, okay?"

“Funsized, not short,” Jeno reminds, and then gently, “I’m just worried. I- I know we haven’t known each other for long, but... I care about you.”

The air stills.

_...Oh fuck._

Renjun’s eyes widen at the same time Jeno’s does, the former in surprise and the later in instant regret. He quivers slightly, maybe out of nervousness or excitement, but Jeno is too busy cursing his impulsive mouth to notice. 

He wonders if he had been out of place. While Renjun is an adult who can probably take full care of himself, the same can't be said for Jeno. On one hand, Jeno has no right to worry about Renjun's wellbeing when he's out here making piss poor decisions, but on the other hand, his piss poor decision of taking a walk late at night is what let him meet Renjun tonight.

Where is this reasoning going, you ask? Honestly, Jeno has no idea. He’s just trying to distract himself so he doesn’t combust of embarrassment from being an embarrassment. 

“...you care about me?” Renjun repeats in a whisper, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.

Once the realization settles in, the once innocent globes of his eyes narrow, cat-like in the dimness of the streetlights. He takes a step into Jeno's space, gradually peeling apart his personal bubble with his slim hands that reach up to caress his cheek.

Jeno feels his heart stop as an inquisitive finger drags along his chest. 

"You're worried about me?" Renjun asks, face alight with mischief.

"I- I..." Jeno sputters, at a loss of words due to the sudden change in Renjun's demeanor. He can't break his eyes away from Renjun's dark eyes, trapped by the laughter he finds etched into his irises.

"You have a way with words,” Renjun whispers, breaking eye contact to slide his eyes down to Jeno's lips. “Usually, men who have a way with words are the men who want something the most. ….Do you want something from me, Jeno?" 

If Jeno wanted to, he could lean down and kiss Renjun here right now. But he’s frozen, Renjun’s honey silk voice licking away at all the words that want to come up at his throat. So Renjun helps him out, pulling Jeno down by the lapels of his jacket. 

“You,” Jeno says weakly, his voice small. Renjun waits patiently for him to finish, expecting a sentence. “I want you.”

Renjun breaks into a laugh at this and tilts his head so they’re practically exchanging oxygen. His eyes lower shut, lips parting with a soft exhale. 

"I'd be heartbroken if I find out you're just playing with me, Lee Jeno."

This jerks Jeno back into reality, dousing him in cold water. This suggestion of ill intent is enough to make him pull away from Renjun, as much as his body screams for him to lean in and close the gap between them. 

Renjun looks at him with wide eyes, but Jeno avoids looking at the anger in his gaze by rubbing his neck in frustration and eyeing the floor underneath him.

"I don't play around," he clenches out. He feels like turning away fully, but he doesn't pull away when Renjun brings a hand to rest upon his chest. "I was being serious when I said I was worried for your safety. I’m worried, and you should be too."

Renjun is both shocked and apologetic— the moment is broken and Jeno wants nothing more than to be gone. But Renjun's hands on his arms burn him, ground him, and when he looks back at his eyes, the flames he finds there are scalding. 

“I won’t have to worry if you’re there to protect me,” Renjun whispers, and those are the last words he hears before Renjun yanks him in for a kiss. 

Those are the last words Jeno hears before he's pulled into the back of Renjun's beaten down SUV, lips locked together in a fervor. Those are the last words before the knife goes in his head, the last words Jeno ever hears.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


One suitcase is a lot of space for a person.

Renjun's hands are shaking when he lines the blade up against the body's throat, the edges sinking into his skin and spilling blood. He hammers down, tearing through cartilage and bone. The spine snaps like those chocolate bars he sometimes eats, splintering away at the ends. Beautifully. 

The head separates. 

The knife falls out of his hand, forgotten. It lies next to Jeno’s gentle words, his ambitious hopes, his dreams plagued with doubt. His heart. Him, the severed seedling with inquisitive petals. Renjun steps over it all, reaching forward with quivering fingertips. 

The cut is far from clean. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes while he cradles the boy's head in his hands, liquid-like glass shards falling delicately upon his prominent nose. Jeno's hair is soft to the touch, just like Renjun always imagined.

"I did it," he whispers, brushing their lips together with a smile. He tastes blood. "I did it, thank you. Thank you, thank you."

He strips the boy and then chops him up by the joints, packing him neatly away into the suitcase. Jeno is one hundred and seventy-eight centimeters of muscle, built from regular trips to the gym, so the tight is fit, but Renjun seals him after some struggle. 

"Your name is Lee Jeno," he tells the boy, brushing his bangs out of his eyes, which glitter in the harsh lights of the car. "You are nineteen years old. You go to the university on the southeast side of the city. You’re a kind person who won't hesitate to offer a helping hand. You like listening to rock music, taking care of animals, and taking long walks at night. You always take the same route. Always and always and always.” 

He pauses, tracing his fingers over the dark purple bags underneath his eyes. 

“I’ve always been watching you, you see." 

What a sad, silly little thing. 

"You want to become a vet, but your mother doesn't approve. When she called you last week and told you she was proud of you, you cried until you fell asleep on your living room couch."

Renjun takes a deep breath, hugging Jeno tightly against his chest. Fingers tracing the slit engraved in the back of his head, blood weeping just like the salt trailing down Renjun’s cheeks. Somewhere in the back of the car, a knife has Jeno’s future haunting its tainted metal. 

"I was listening," he whispers. "I was always listening to you. I care a lot about you too, you know?"

Blood has seeped into Renjun's sweater and jeans, blooming red. When he strips down to his underwear, scarlet has painted his chest, neck, and arms. And his hands. Renjun clenches and unclenches his fingers, marveling at the ichor squelching in his palms.

The blood is warm and slick against his skin. Renjun traces along the ivory on his fingers with his nose, inhaling iron. It tastes bitter on his tongue, but he feels sweet on the inside. So sweet. Jeno is sweet. Renjun wants to have him all. 

When he laps at the blood dripping down his fingers, Jeno watches with his glass eyes. Renjun shatters for him, filled with love. 

After wiping himself clean, Renjun shrugs on Jeno's bomber jacket and sweatpants, inhaling his scent. Jeno’s clothes are too big on him, and he imagines, absently, what it would be like to climb inside of him. Drink in his warmth. Take him all. Become him. 

Renjun laughs into Jeno’s warm jacket. 

"You are gorgeous," he tells the boy with a loving smile, brushing his thumbs against Jeno’s cheeks. Red trails in his wake. "I fell in love with you from the moment I first saw you. And I always get what I want."

**Author's Note:**

> intense thinking 
> 
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